Jasmine whimpered as the muzzle pointed at Kes. “Father, please...don’t do this. We love you. We’re your children!”
“Silence,” Bonnie commanded. “You will do as I say, child. No more talking without permission.”
Jasmine seemed to wilt, but her shoulders remained defiant.
Kestrel puffed out his chest, facing death with the decorum of any worthy fighter. “You’ll never live with yourself if you do this,” he muttered. “I’m your son.”
Cut bared his teeth. “You ceased being my son the moment you uploaded the atrocity of a video and thought I was so fucking stupid to buy it.” His head whipped to Jethro. “Choose, Jet!”
“I don’t know what you want me to do!” Jethro yelled. “You expect me to name a sibling for you to murder? Why would I when it was all my fault? They had nothing to do with this. Nothing!”
Cut stiffened, closing his eye to aim.
I ran forward—to do what? Who knew. But I was too late.
“Wrong choice.” His finger squeezed the trigger.
The gunpowder ignited.
The room ricocheted with noise.
A bullet leapt from the gun, tearing faster than sight to lodge into a Hawk offspring.
“No!” Jethro bellowed, charging forward.
A flare of red appeared on Kestrel’s chest the second before he collapsed to his knees. His face went blank with shock, lips round with disbelief.
“You never had a choice,” Cut murmured, aiming at his daughter.
Jethro moved the second Cut pulled the trigger.
I saw it all.
I felt it all.
One moment, Jethro was alive. His heart beating. His soul linked with mine.
The next, he threw himself in front of his wheelchair-bound sister, accepting the bullet into his own body.
I didn’t react for the longest moment.
I couldn’t believe the story before me.
He couldn’t be dead.
He can’t be dead.
He’s not dead!
I staggered forward, my hands clamping over my mouth.
He cannot be dead!
Jasmine screamed as her brother fell over her, his torso slamming against her atrophied legs, his knees crashing to the carpet.
And then he rolled.
He rolled off his beloved sister, lying face down on the carpet.
